Building Bridges
by soehinged
Summary: A collection of random short stories regarding the lyrics of the Eurovision Song Contest 2015 entries and what they could possibly mean. Rated M just in case.
1. Black Smoke

**black smoke**

They started walking some months ago. She remembers, in an unusual way, that she told herself they would travel around the whole world if they kept up the rhythm. She's laughing at that idea, now, as her coffee awaits the inevitable end placed on the everyday table next to the everyday window in the everyday restaurant.

She feels unable to do it, and maybe that's the reason why she's turning the spoon over and over. She seems hypnotized by her own movements. Lots of people come and go in and out of the building, and just a few take a seat; if they do, they swiftly finish their frugal breakfast and leave —it's almost eight o'clock in the morning and their lives have to continue one more day, she thinks. Not hers, certainly. How long can she pretend?

Everything has changed. She can't face the consequences of that, she doesn't want to. It's been months, and even though her inner flame is gone for good —the one he had has also disappeared, she reckons—, she doesn't have the heart to admit it. Oh.

_Screw it. Screw me. It's just so complicated_.

Embarrassing. They had made the silliest promises. '_Oh, like, really, I'll never let you go_.' '_I can do it_.' '_Just dare!_' All smiles. She'd have sworn it was paradise.

Her coffee's smoke is rising. Memories. Walking. Holding hands. Deciding on their next destination. Having to lie to their relatives to hide themselves.

And still, she feels like dancing. Ironically. As if she was witnessing an incredible performance in a concert where the music was blasting. She's hard to read.

She's absent. She can't come to any conclusion. She feels done _but then _more alive than ever. Closing her eyes, she's only left with smoke.


	2. Playing With Numbers

**playing with numbers**

Summer is over now. And I enjoyed its gentle breeze while it lasted, like I always do. But this is the time I feared; this is the time I feel like I owe you something. I think this should be yours. Take it all. **Please**, take it all.

It's just what you deserve after I mercilessly made the mess in your vision. I wouldn't stand you reminding me; you shouldn't. I played the victim... and even now, I can see that they found a little truth in _me_ —inside of _us_. It turns out they weren't as wrong as I thought. But as these memories disappear and vanish, I get a clearer sight of what this meant.

You knew me, didn't you? You truly did. But I can't be your muse, even though I fought so hard to be someone. Nevertheless, or because of that, they didn't know me. I gave my all for them to understand me, and I guess it was impossible. I believe in destiny. I suppose it wasn't bound to happen.

When I sit here, I realize how far I have come. Albeit this isn't the route I should've taken, I think I should be thankful for having walked through. I learned a fair amount of things. _Life has to do with learning and teaching something to somebody at the same rate_. I've simply found that... that I was playing with numbers and I had no care for them, no filter to let them pass. That's where I threw everything away.

I only hope that one day we all will reset ourselves, forget what needs to be forgotten, and those numbers will rearrange to start again. I will watch from afar how they are operated once more, but not for me.


	3. Warrior (I Want Your Love)

**warrior (i want your love)**

The duchess had made the decision that she wouldn't be left crashing and burning again. The world was going to listen to her. She was isolated, alone, thinking about what on hell she had done to receive such a harsh punishment. But that was over.

Fire on her eyes, coal inside her soul, she stood up and took the helm that drove her life. Swords were ready to cut through every fear, waiting for her to come forth and take the crown she deserved. Although the duchess had been down so many times due to so many paths that were broken and a number of enemies whose attacks she felt in her mind like sharp needles, she had reached a point of no return.

The duchess would conquer. All she wanted had her drifting over, but she was the deadly lover, the insatiable lioness, who had hurt in the past and would lick her wounds. They simply had to let her show them. The duchess was determined enough not to make the same mistakes as she didn't want to make the usual amends. She was a strong woman. She was a woman.

Explosions. She had run away from them before and this time she looked at them happily, almost with a scary, satisfied glance. The duchess needed to enter them, sacrifice herself into the fire and be a victim of the bombings in her heart; she knew it was the one true way to the heavens of her revenge. In her fantasy, she was the one to seduce them, she poured her entire existence in a glass of bloody wine for them to taste, wanting their love.

In her fantasy, this would kill them. In her fantasy, she was fierce enough to be a warrior.


	4. Still In Love With You

**still in love with you**

They had been dancing the night away. It's not like they cared about something else, actually. Surprisingly enough, the room was full of wasted people pretending they had at least a bit of their dignity remaining, but they were among the only guests that had survived the contest that had taken place early that day.

It was all about heel and toe. Energetically, courageously insisting on the humble idea that they were the best. Hours were passing by. Anyone watching them would agree that at first, it appeared as their movements were perfectly measured —and it was almost symmetry. Time proved them a little wrong, though, because at a certain point in the afternoon they had started making unintentional, really funny faces at each other, maybe as a result of the fatigue slowly seizing them. But of course, giving up was not an option they considered.

One of them was constantly saying, "Don't look at them, just focus on us...," somehow as a sort of mantra, worrying about the slightest possibility of losing. The other ended up replying, "No need to fear! As long as we're together, we'll make it, sure 'bout that!" the attempts of a wink drawing in the first one's face. _Crash, boom, bang_. The other recalled themselves arguing last night and that sentence definitely being present in the conversation.

A dress marginally slipped down and a member of the duo shouted suddenly. "Sounding good, huh?!" Everyone in there seemed to nod. Then this person stopped dancing and ran dodging several more couples in order to reach a man. "What do you think, Richard?," she inquired. "I'm still in love with you!," he acknowledged.

Then her dancing partner arrived panting. "B-But but that peck?"

"I guess I got on the wrong train..."


End file.
